He Stood In His Shoes And Wondered
by PinkSakuraPetals
Summary: Slytherin!Harry. Mentor?Snape. Harry is introduced to the Wizarding World quite abruptly. Slash, but not a Snarry.
1. Chapter 1

Title: He Stood in His Shoes and Wondered

Author: PinkSakuraPetals

Pairing: DECIDED

There was a naughty boy,  
A naughty boy was he,  
He would not stop at home,  
He could not quiet be-  
He took  
In his knapsack  
A book  
Full of vowels  
And a shirt  
With some towels,  
A slight cap  
For night cap,  
A hair brush,  
Comb ditto,  
New stockings-  
For old ones  
Would split O!  
This knapsack  
Tight at 'is back  
He rivetted close  
And followed his nose  
To the North,  
To the North,  
And followed his nose  
To the North.

There was a naughty boy,  
And a naughty boy was he,  
He ran away to Scotland  
The people for to see-  
There he found  
That the ground  
Was as hard,  
That a yard  
Was as long,  
That a song  
Was as merry,  
That a cherry  
Was as red-  
That lead  
Was as weighty  
That fourscore  
Was as eighty,  
That a door  
Was as wooden  
As in England-  
So he stood in his shoes  
And he wondered,  
He wondered,  
He stood in his shoes  
And he wondered.

John Keats

* * *

It was heavy pounding that woke him up.

"BOY!"

Harry jolted upright on his cot, heart beating a frantic rhythm on his ribcage. A glance at the small vent in the cupboard door showed that it was light out. Harry had overslept.

"Get out here, boy! Don't make me come in there!"

The small ten year old ripped the tattered sheet off of his body and scrambled to the door of the cupboard. His hands fumbled with the handle of the door for a moment before he was able to successfully push it open.

"What's the meaning of this, boy? Where's our breakfast? I will not tolerate laziness from you, you little freak!"

"Sorry, Uncle Vernon. It won't happen again, sir." Harry kept his eyes glued on the Uncle Vernon's work shoes. If the man was already dressed for work, that meant Harry had overslept by two hours. He cautiously glanced at the grandfather clock and saw that it was indeed eight-thirty.

The fat man's eyes narrowed, trying to see any impertinence in Harry's tone. Harry braced himself just as the man's hand came up to box his ear. "See that it doesn't. Your Aunt left a list of chores for you on the counter. Make sure you get all of them done by the time I get home. We're having guests tonight and Pet wants this house perfect. Understand?"

"Yes, sir. Have the house perfect by the time you get home. I understand."

When Harry stayed where he was, Vernon snapped. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get working!"

Harry hurried to the kitchen, ducking another swat to the head from his Uncle. He heard the front door open and slam shut and he breathed a sigh of relief. His Uncle was scary when he was angry.

He quickly snatched a handful of Alpen cereal, grimacing at the lack of sugar. He chewed quickly and rinsed his mouth with water. It was the only cereal he could snitch from and not get caught. Aunt Petunia only bought it for herself occasionally and usually forgot she had it, so Harry was able to take a handful here and there once it was opened.

A note sat on the countertop and Harry could see his Aunt's neat handwriting on it. He read over it carefully, not wanting to miss any important information. Harry's stomach dropped at the size of the list. He was fairly certain that he could finish most of it on time, but a few of the jobs, like cleaning out the chimney, would take a bit longer. He scurried about the house quickly, trying to do as many chores at once as possible.

At half past nine, Aunt Petunia came home from shopping. Dudley trailed in behind him, whining that he was hungry. Harry ducked the meaty fist his cousin threw at him and waited for his relatives to get into the kitchen before following them. His Aunt was scanning the list she left him, taking note of the checkmarks he'd already put down.

"You've got the tablecloth out?" Harry didn't hesitate in his answer, knowing she expected immediate feedback to her questions.

"Yes, ma'am. It's on the dining table so the wrinkles will relax out of it."

"Hmm. You washed the table before putting it down, I hope. That tablecloth belonged to Vernon's Grandmother. It's worth quite a bit."

"Yes, ma'am."

Dudley chose this moment to reiterate his woes. "Mummy! I'm hungry! Make the freak cook lunch already!"

"Dudley, dear, it's too early for lunch." When Dudley's whining grew in volume, Petunia rushed to finish. "But I believe it's just about time for a nice brunch. What do you say, Snookums?"

Dudley let a few fat crocodile tears escape. "Can I have the rest of the kippers and blood sausage?"

"You can have whatever you like. Boy, stop whatever chore you were doing and wash your hands. I want you to cook Duddums his brunch."

Harry quickly set down his dusting rag and hurried over to the sink. His hands weren't too bad, but his nails were black with dirt. Aunt Petunia would have a fit if he even thought of touching the frying pan with hands like that. Harry grunted when a strong push sent his stomach into the side of the counter.

"Hurry up, you freak! I'm hungry and you're taking forever!" Dudley punched him in the back of the head, laughing when Harry's forehead banged on the linoleum countertop. "And don't even think about eating any of the kippers. I'll rat you out to Mum and then you won't eat at all today."

Harry ignored his cousin and started up the frying pan for the bacon. He didn't even like kippers anyway. His stomach grumbled and burned at the smell of cooking bacon and he pressed a fist into his gut to try and quell the feeling. He hadn't finished all of his chores yesterday, so he'd missed out on dinner. Harry didn't want to ruin his chances at getting dinner today by snagging a bite right now.

Harry sat in his cupboard, rubbing his sore stomach. He hadn't been able to finish the chimney before Uncle Vernon had gotten home and got a meaty fist to the gut for it, as well as no dinner for the rest of the week. Harry figured that was alright, since it was Friday, but he knew from experience that more than a couple days without food was not a fun time.

Laughter filtered through the vent slits on his cupboard door and Harry wondered what lame mini-golf joke his Uncle had used this time. Every now and then Harry's nose would be teased with the smell of Aunt Petunia's pot roast or the garlic mashed potatoes that had won her three blue ribbons in the neighborhood cooking fest.

Just when Harry was about to fall completely asleep, the Dursley's guests made their way to the front door. Harry never caught their names, but he did know that the woman must have marinated in her perfume before coming over. He pinched his nose tightly to stop the sneeze that was trying to escape. The smell filled his small cupboard and even burying his face in his old, stained pillow didn't provide any relief. He pressed deeper into his cot and let out a sneeze, hoping that the old linens muffled the noise enough so that the adults outside his cupboard didn't hear. His stomach dropped when one of the guests spoke up.

"What was that?"

Uncle Vernon stammered out an answer, something about settling houses, and escorted his guests out the door quickly. Harry tried to stop his hands from shaking by digging them into his bed linens, but there was nothing he could do about the rest of his body. He flinched when his Uncle ripped the cupboard open and pulled him out by the collar of his shirt. His Uncle backhanded him and he felt his head hit the wall.

"You're treading on thin ice, boy. You better hope I'm in a good mood come Monday or you'll be lucky to ever see the light of day again!"

His Uncle flung him into his cupboard once more and locked it. Harry's heart thumped painfully. They were going to keep him in here all weekend? He'd be fine without food until Monday, but he drank a couple of glasses of water while he did his chores. He wasn't going to be able to hold it in that long. He could already feel the pressure in his gut.

A flash of peach through the vent had him knocking on the door softly. His Aunt stopped mid stride.

"What do you want, boy? You nearly ruined our dinner with the Beauregards."

"Aunt Petunia, I got to go potty. I won't be able to hold it until Monday, ma'am." Harry crossed his fingers, hoping his Aunt would realized that he didn't have anything to use in his cupboard. He knew she disliked messes, even if they were in the cupboard under the stairs.

"Very well, I will let you out for five minutes. Don't dally." His aunt undid the lock and Harry nearly raced upstairs to the water closet. He hurried back, his hands still wet from washing them, with a few minutes to spare. His Aunt locked the cupboard once more and Harry could hear her footsteps on the stairs as she headed to bed.

_'Why do they hate me?'_

* * *

Harry was watering the rosebushes in the front flowerbed when a large shadow fell over him. He looked up to see his Uncle glaring at him, holding a broken statuette.

"What is this, boy?" His Uncle's voice was quiet and calm, deceivingly light.

Harry swallowed. The statuette had been fine when he went outside to start his chores, but Dudley had been in a bad mood all morning and he wouldn't put it past his cousin to get him into trouble for a little entertainment. "It's the statuette you got from work when you were promoted, sir."

"I know that, you dunce. Why is it broken?"

"I don't know, sir."

His Uncle narrowed his eyes, his voice cold as he commanded, "Get in the house."

Harry set down the watering can gently, his heart hurting from fear. His Uncle liked to yell quite a bit, but Harry was more afraid when he was calm looking. It always meant a belt would be in his future. He flinched when his Uncle shoved him none too gently through the door, his anger quickly showing itself.

"You're lucky Dudley's birthday is in two days, boy. If you didn't have to go to Mrs. Figg's, you'd be in for a lot worse." Harry looked up at his Uncle in confusion just as the base of the statuette came crashed into the side of his head, plunging him into darkness.

* * *

Severus Snape glared at the fat muggle man in front of him. "What do you mean, Mr. Potter isn't here? I know for a fact that Albus Dumbledore placed the boy in your care. Have you managed to misplace him?"

"Can't misplace what you never had, right? I'm telling you, there is no one by the name of Harry Potter here. Now get your freaky ass off of my property!" The heavy oak door slammed shut in Severus's face and he felt a tic form in his brow.

"Nothing but a rude, piggish moron. I can only imagine how selfish that brat has grown to be." Severus snapped out his wand and flicked it, pushing the door open with a crash. He ignored the muggle man that was yelling at him to get out and held his wand in front of him. "Point me, Harry Potter."

His wand jumped out of his hand and spun once before aiming at the door of a cupboard located under the stairs. A quickly flick of his fingers unlocked the weak latch and he yanked open the door. A small boy sat on a cot inside staring at him with emerald eyes. Severus fought back the snarl that wanted to escape at the resemblance this boy held to his childhood enemy.

"Stop playing around, Potter, and get out here at once. Your failure to respond to your Hogwarts letter as prompted the headmaster to send me to fetch his precious little hero. I was in the middle of a very complicated potion and if your dawdling causes it to over boil, my already substantial hatred of you will know no bounds." He pulled the boy out by one arm, ignoring his yelp of pain. Severus wasted no time dragging the boy out into the street, away from the wards on his house, and apparated to Hogsmeade.

Harry tried to hide his shaking as the tall, frightening man pulled him out of his cupboard. He sent his Aunt and Uncle a pleading look, hoping they would step forward and save him from this kidnapper, but they huddled in the living room doorway, too worried about themselves to care that he was being taken away. He yanked uselessly at his arm, trying to free himself from the iron grip the man had on his wrist. It was beginning to hurt and he just knew there would be a nasty bruise on it tomorrow.

The man dragged him out into the street and Harry suddenly couldn't breath as he was squeezed through a very narrow space. He blinked and a small village was in front on him. His senses returned to him a second later and his stomach heaved violently. He barely managed to avoid the dark clothed man's shoes before he lost the meager dinner he had eaten and passed out on the ground.

* * *

As promised, this is the gift fic I'm writing for Natsumi Tsuchi-Ookami. The title is based, obviously, off of the poem in the very beginning. I think the poem fits Harry quite well, if it's thought about in terms of him heading off to Hogwarts _in Scotland_. I had quite a bit of good luck when I found that poem.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: He Stood in His Shoes and Wondered

Author: PinkSakuraPetals

Pairing: DECIDED

* * *

Severus eyed the puddle of vomit on the ground in front of him with distaste. Children had such weak stomachs when it came to apparation. Sighing angrily, _(Honestly, why did he have to be the one to collect the stupid boy?) _he leaned down to gather the passed out Potter Spawn into his arms.

And froze.

He'd been angry and distracted by thoughts of his, more than likely, ruined potion when he'd arrived in the muggle neighborhood. He had just wanted to grab the boy, bring him to Albus, and return to his dungeons and potions. Now that he was in Hogsmeade surrounded by the comforting magic that floated in the air, his anger abated to slight irritation and he was able to really observe the pile of fainted boy lying at his feet.

Was that a bruise on his back?

Severus kneeled on the ground, unmindful of the dirt that clung to his knees. Potter's overly large shirt had ridden up a bit when he fell and a small amount of his lower back was visible. The potion's master reached out and gently pulled the shirt a little higher, exposing the dark purple bruise in all its horrible glory. He glared at it, not wanting to think that it was vaguely boot shaped, but unable to keep the thought from popping up.

'_Perhaps he was rough-housing with his, no doubt, idiotic friends and one of them accidentally trod on him in the chaos.'_

He knew this was wishful thinking. He knew no child, even the large one he saw in all of the pictures that lined the walls of Number Four Privet Drive, would have either the strength or the weight to inflict this kind of damage. Severus's mind began to play back the scene inside the house, remembering every detail subconsciously.

_The muggles had denied Potter's existence. Potter was in the cupboard, surrounded by cleaning supplies and spiders, sitting on a worn out pile of blankets. The boy yelped in pain was he was pulled out of the cupboard. _

Severus hurriedly flipped the boy over and brought the boy's right arm into view. As he thought, there was an obvious break in the bone between the wrist and elbow.

Shit.

The potion's master wasted no time in gathering the boy into his arms and making his way towards Hogwarts. Albus would be waiting for him in his office, but Severus headed straight to the hospital wing. As much as he hated to make the headmaster wait, he feared Madame Pomfrey's wrath even more. The woman went positively rabid at the mere mention of an injured child going untended.

Poppy Pomfrey liked to use the summer holiday to reorganize her supplies and restock what she was running low on. She made a notation on her list to request more pepper-up potion from Severus. This year's OWLS and NEWTS had been especially stressful, whether due to lack of studying or an increased level of difficulty, Poppy did not know, but she hardly had any of the potion left because of it. A lone vial sat on the shelf before her.

The doors to the hospital wing slammed open and the aging mediwitch dropped her papers with a squawk. She poked her head out of the store room just in time to see Severus settle a small child on one of the beds.

"Severus, what are you doing here? Who is that child?" Poppy came out of the store room, her steps quick and sure. She had fallen into her role as a healer almost immediately. When the potion's master didn't answer right away, she gave him a pointed glare. "Well?"

"The headmaster requested me to gather Mr. Potter from his relatives' home when there was no reply to his Hogwarts letter. I found him in this condition." Severus didn't mention that he hadn't realized the boy was injured until he'd taken him from his home. "I must speak with Albus. I will leave Potter here in your care."

Poppy didn't miss the dark look in Severus's eye. It reminded her of the time Severus had come to her as a student and had asked for help with his ankle. He had claimed he'd slipped on the stairs, but Poppy had confronted him about it, questioning how slipping down the stairs had given him hand shaped bruises on his neck. Severus had clammed up after that and snuck out as soon as his ankle had healed. To this day the man had kept silent.

Severus marched out of the hospital wing and ascended the staircases that would take him to the headmaster's office. The barmy old man would no doubt question the whereabouts of his golden boy and Severus wondered if he had known what kind of people Potter had been placed with.

* * *

He was floating on clouds.

Soft, fluffy clouds that smelled of sunshine and some flowery scent that he'd never come across before.

Harry nuzzled into the softness underneath is cheek and smiled. He was so warm and comfortable, he'd never felt anything like it. All he'd ever had with the Dursleys was a pile of old blankets and a flat pillow, nearly older than he was.

Wait.

If he was in his cupboard, then _why _was he surrounded by all this softness? His mind raced and his eyes snapped open when he remembered.

A man in black. He had been kidnapped and squeezed to another place and he'd gotten sick and passed out.

Harry sat up quickly and looked around him wildly, looking for any signs of the mean man that had taken him from his cupboard and the Dursleys. All around him were empty beds covered in crisp sheets. He noticed that he was lying in a bed just like it and that he was no longer in his cousin's large clothes, but in a pair of striped pajamas.

Voices echoed from somewhere outside the room he was in and Harry slid out of the bed. He jolted when he realized it didn't hurt to move his right arm anymore and that his back didn't feel like the nerves were on fire anymore. Harry dived under the bed when the door at the far end of the hall opened and he saw three pairs of funny looking boots walk into the room.

A woman's voice cried out in horror and the smallest pair of boots made their way to his bed. Harry leaned further into the wall at the head of the bed, hoping they wouldn't think to lift the sheets that hung off the bed and check underneath.

"Where has he gone?! The sleeping draught I gave him should have kept him asleep for another hour!"

Harry tensed. Was this woman a kidnapper, too?

"Obviously that is not the case, Madame Pomfrey. He is more than likely running amuck in the hallways as we speak. Albus, perhaps we should ask the portraits to keep a look out for Mr. Potter?"

Harry had to slap a hand over his mouth to prevent the cry of distress from escaping his throat. The mean man was here! He could see which pair of boots was his. There was a bit of mud on the boots and on the bottom of the man's funny looking coat. The other two were clean.

"I agree, Severus. Poppy, please stay here in case Mr. Potter comes back, would you?"

"Of course, Albus. I hope we find him quickly. He should not be out of bed so soon after being healed."

Two of the pairs of boots left the large hall and Harry watched the boots of the woman named Poppy. The sheets above him rustled as the woman straightened them out and he could hear her humming faintly. When the woman sat down on the bed next to his and a small sob broke free from her, Harry crawled forward a little to catch a glimpse of her face.

Harry's eyes widened. Poppy was an old woman! Surely she wasn't a kidnapper. Grandmas didn't kidnap little boys. They baked cookies and pinched cheeks. The old woman must have heard his shuffling because her eyes focused downward and met his. With a shriek that had Harry backing up quickly, the woman jumped up and bent over to look under the bed.

"Harry? What are you doing under the bed? Come out of there, please. It's much too dusty for little boys under there."

Harry couldn't keep from shaking and jolted when all of the sudden he was sliding forward and sitting on the floor in front of Poppy.

"Dear child, what possessed you to crawl under the bed? You're injuries are newly healed and still fragile. You could have broken your arm again with one wrong move." Poppy frowned when the boy in front of her curled into himself and cursed when she realized that she had fallen into her 'lecture' voice. No doubt Harry was waiting for her to strike him or some other foul action. Poppy forced herself to soften her voice as she lowered herself into a sitting position in front of Harry. "Harry, I'm not angry with you, just concerned. When Severus brought you in here, you were unconscious and hurt. I do not want to see you hurt so soon after healing you." Poppy reached forward and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, ignoring the small flinch. "Harry, please look at me."

Harry uncurled enough to look at the old woman and saw that she was smiling softly at him. He straightened his back and fidgeted with one of his sleeves as he studied the woman in front of him. "Why did that mean man kidnap me? If he's looking for ransom, he might as well bring me back. The Dursleys won't pay anything."

Poppy didn't know whether to be angry with Harry's despicable muggle relatives for bringing the boy down so much or with Severus for not properly explaining to the boy why he was there.

"Ah, Poppy, I see you've found our missing boy."

Harry looked behind him. In the doorway stood one of the oldest men Harry had ever seen.

* * *

Well, here's chapter two.

Now, here's a small note. I've been told that the scene with Severus in the first chapter was rushed feeling. I know, and it bugs me, too. I added that at the end and didn't really have a plan for it. I was also told that the scene where Harry asks his aunt to go to the bathroom made him seem a bit young. I realize now that I should have made this clearer. Each of the three parts (dinner party, broken statuette, Severus) happen at different times. Harry is much younger in the beginning of the chapter. I didn't indicate what age because it was supposed to outline a typical occurrence in the Dursley household. Same with the second part.

I appreciate the constructive criticism greatly. It helped me find flaws that I would have missed otherwise.

Dedicated to Natsumi Tsuchi-Ookami.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: He Stood in His Shoes and Wondered

Author: PinkSakuraPetals

Pairing: DECIDED

* * *

Harry stared up at the old man in front of him, eyes wide and a bit fearful. He almost thought the man was Santa, with his long beard and twinkly eyes, but he was much too thin. Santa was always described as _fat_ and jolly.

Blue eyes met green and Harry backed into Poppy. The old man's eyes were piercing, though not unkindly.

"Really, Albus, sit down! You're scaring the poor thing."

Harry wanted to protest that point. He wasn't scared, just freaked out.

"Ah, forgive me, Mr. Potter." Albus sat on the edge of the bed next to Harry's. "You had us rather worried when you hid from us, young man. It's easy to get lost in Hogwarts Castle. I'm glad the portraits informed me that they hadn't seen you, or I'd be wandering the halls for the rest of the day. I do hope Severus comes in from his inspection of the grounds. He's going to be peeved that he wasted the effort." Light blue eyes twinkled merrily at him. "Now, my dear boy, I would like to know just why you didn't respond to your Hogwarts letters. We sent hundreds of them."

Harry blinked. He didn't remember ever getting any mail before. "I'm sorry, sir, but I don't know what you're talking about. I never got a letter."

The twinkling dimmed just a bit. "No? Are you sure you just didn't know what it was and accidentally threw it away?"

Harry shook his head. "I've never gotten mail before, sir. Only the Dursley's do."

"Hmm…that is most troublesome." The twinkling boosted up a notch. "But, no matter. You're here and that's the important thing. I'll have a copy of the registration letter to you within the hour, Mr. Potter. I must finish a few things before the day is over. Severus can escort you to Diagon Alley tomorrow to get your things." The brightly colored robes Albus wore swirled around his ankles as he stood and headed out of the hospital wing.

Poppy clucked her tongue. "That man. At the first sign of trouble in a child's home life, he takes off to complete 'more important things'." The elderly nurse looked down at Harry, her expression showing how much she disapproved of the man's actions. "He fully believes that a child should grow up with their family, no matter the situation. It has cost him more than one student's loyalty before, and I dare say there may be others in the following years."

Harry didn't really know what to say. He'd been kidnapped from his relative's house, squished until he could breathe, puked on his kidnapper's shoes, and woke up in a strange place that turned out to be a castle called Hogwarts. He was understandably confused.

"What exactly is going on?"

Poppy looked startled at the question and it took her a full minute to comprehend what he asked. She realized with a sheepish blush that Harry had grown up in a muggle household and, although the Dursley's were _supposed_ to have explained that he was a wizard, it may not have happened. She settled the boy on his bed and sat across from him to explain everything.

"Well, to start off, Harry, you're a wizard."

* * *

Severus stayed just outside the doors to the infirmary, one ear tilted to hear the conversation going on inside. Albus had long since swept off to his office and Severus couldn't help but roll his eyes at the old man. The esteemed headmaster had brushed off all of the warning signs that Poppy and himself had pointed out to him, had ignored the admission from the boy's own mouth that he'd never seen a single letter.

Poppy's voice echoed out into the hall as she explained the Wizarding World to the eleven-year-old, occasionally interrupted by an amazed gasp or an incredulous exclamation. Severus waited until Poppy had finished her lesson and had given the boy a mild sleeping draught before heading back into the infirmary.

A glare greeted him.

"There you are Severus. I think we'd better have a little chat, don't you?" The potion master managed not to gulp, but he knew that a little bit of his nervousness showed by the smug smile the healer sent him. "Yes, you know exactly what this is about, don't you? Let's take this into my office so we don't wake Harry. The sleeping draught I gave him just sent him into a light sleep and any loud noises will surely wake him."

He followed Poppy into her small office at the back of the hall and sat down hesitantly. Rabid!Healer was in full effect and he kept his legs tensed on the off chance that he'd need to make a quick getaway.

"Now, Severus, what exactly was going through your mind when you _pulled_ Harry from his home without a single suitable explanation and _apparated_ without warning?" Poppy held up her hand to stop him when he opened his mouth. "I don't want to hear your potion excuse, Severus. No potion, no matter how rare or difficult, is worth more than the well being of a child. I'd have thought you would know better than that, given the circumstances."

Severus narrowed his eyes at the hint toward his own past and tried to steer the conversation into a little bit safer territory. "How is he?"

"He had deep bruising along his back, along with a few raw stripes that were no doubt made from a belt. His ulna was fractured cleanly and healed very quickly with a dose of Skelegrow." Seeing the unasked question in Severus eyes, Poppy continued. "There was no evidence, past or present, of sexual abuse. From talking to him, I found that he'd suffered from verbal abuse, but not as much as I'd feared. He's got a strong personality and I have high hopes for him."

"Bloody Gryffindor," Severus muttered.

"Perhaps, but you know what they say about assuming."

* * *

Albus studied the photograph in front of him. Lily and James waved up at him, smiling as they held a laughing Harry. Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew would occasionally show up in the background, either engaged in a game of keep away, or joining in with the waving.

He'd seen so many students pass through Hogwarts' doors, had guided them all into adulthood, but the ones that stuck out the most were the ones he'd failed. First and foremost, of course was Tom Riddle. He had failed to see the boy's reluctance to return to the orphanage each summer, had ignored the determination he'd seen in his eyes to stay at Hogwarts. Because of that, a girl was killed in the school and Tom Riddle eventually grew up to be Lord Voldemort.

Severus had shown early signs of family troubles. Their first day back from Holiday break in his first year, Severus made a trip to the infirmary for an injured ankle. Poppy had expressed her concern to him about the bruising on the back of the boy's neck, but when Albus subtly checked on his own, the mark was no where to be seen. Albus knew now that Severus had frantically learned low level healing spells to cover up his injuries enough so that no one noticed them.

And now, Harry. The boy hadn't responded to any of the enrollment letters, so Albus sent Severus, who had the easiest time blending in with Muggles, to fetch the boy. The potion's professor had returned to his office empty handed and explained what had transpired at the Dursley's home. Albus recognized the opportunity that had presented itself. He was given clear cut evidence that all was not well in young Potter's life, and now Albus was going to do something about it.

He set the photograph back up on the shelf behind him and readied himself for a visit with the Dursleys.

* * *

Severus stared into his crackling fireplace, nursing two fingers of fire whiskey. The reaming Poppy had given him still rang in his ears and did nothing to lift his already sour mood.

His years as a student in Hogwarts had shown him that Gryffindors, especially James Potter and his crew, were cruel, arrogant bastards. When Potter was taken out by the Dark Lord, Severus felt no sadness at the loss, though he did mourn Lily, even now. Potter's son, the-boy-lived, became famous in one night and Severus assumed the boy grew up to be as arrogant as his father and was annoyed that Albus even thought to send him to collect the _precious _boy when the little brat didn't reply to his enrollment letter.

Severus hated it when his assumptions came back to bite him in the ass.

Now he had to escort a young boy who was afraid of him (and rightly so) to Diagon Alley. Severus was quite sure that somewhere James Potter was laughing at him.

"Severus, Minerva wants to be let in."

The potion's master looked at the painting of a field hanging over his mantle. The short little wizard that usually stayed in his guard portrait was looking down at him. There was a frown on his face and a whine in his voice that suggested that the Head of Gryffindor had been badgering to be let in for quite some time now.

"Bloody Hell. No doubt she's here to inquire as to why her future Gryffindor is at Hogwarts so early." Severus placed his fire whiskey down and levered himself out of his chair, his back popping. "The women around here are much too protective of the little mongrels they teach." He stalked over to the door and swung it open, startling the elder Head of House.

"Severus! It's about time you opened up. I've been trying to get your portrait to collect you for the last ten minutes."

"It's a pleasure to see you as well, Minerva," Severus drawled sarcastically.

"I told you he wouldn't want to see you." The short wizard had returned to his own painting and was lazily stirring a cup of tea.

"Quiet you," Minerva snapped. She turned determined eyes on the younger professor. "Severus, I just came from the hospital wing. Poppy wouldn't let me in, but she says that Harry Potter was brought here today by you, bruised all over like an overripe peach and with a broken arm. Just what did you do to that boy?"

Severus drew himself up into a straighter position in anger. "I did nothing to the little cretin. I delivered him as he was found at his relatives' house."

Minerva stared at him for a moment, judging whether or not she should believe that he was telling the truth, before becoming indignant. "I _told _Albus that those muggles were no good! I TOLD him!" The woman paced back and forth a few times, muttering under her breath. She stopped and nodded, coming to an unknown decision. She turned on her heel without another word to the annoyed Slytherin and headed down the hall. Severus heard her say something that sounded like "_talk to Albus about this" _and contemplated flooing the Headmaster to warn him.

Then again, Severus wasn't very happy with the man right now either.

* * *

I'm still here. I appreciate constructive critiquing. Hugs to everyone. Good night.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: He Stood in His Shoes and Wondered

Author: PinkSakuraPetals

Pairing: DECIDED

* * *

Severus stood over the sleeping boy in the infirmary. Messy black hair, so similar to his father's, fanned across the pillow and green eyes were hidden behind thick lashes. 'So deceptively innocent when they're sleeping.' Severus reached down and shook his shoulder, jostling him awake. "Wake up, Potter. I'm to escort you to Diagon Alley and I'll not allow it to be an all-day event. I expect you to be ready to leave in ten minutes." The Slytherin head left the half-awake boy lying dazedly in bed, marched over to the main entrance of the hospital wing, and sat down on a visitor's chair. "Hurry up!"

The boy scrambled out of bed, nearly killing himself to get free of the tangled sheets, and hurried into the shower room. Severus heard the sound of water running seconds later and mentally counted down the time. He'd woken up with a headache that left him none too accommodating to anyone else and didn't even twitch when there was a shocked "Whoa!" and a wet thud.

The stupid twit had slipped on the wet tile.

Potter ran back into the main part of the infirmary and gazed around stupidly. Severus knew he was looking for clothes and pointed in the direction of the bedside table. "Second drawer, near the back. The outfit will shrink to your size." The boy nodded without a word and quickly drew the curtain around his bed for some privacy. With thirty seconds to spare, the Potter brat skid to a stop in front of him, hands clenched nervously.

He had yet to make eye contact with the older male and hadn't spoken a word, but Severus let him be. It was much too early in the morning to listen to the nonsensical babble that was sure to spew forth from the younger's mouth. Severus stood up, pointed his wand at the boy's feet, and transfigured the sneakers into thick-soled boots. At the questioning glance, Severus rolled his eyes.

"It rained during the night and the path from the castle to Hogsmeade will be muddy. Sneakers are the worst choice for this kind of weather." The two males left the hospital wing, Harry following the elder, and headed down to the Great Hall. "We will have a quick breakfast and then leave. You will take this potion with your meal." Severus held out a vial filled with a nutritive potion and Harry took it without a word.

Severus watched the eleven year old eat, noting the small amount of food on his plate. It would take a while for the boy's stomach to get used to eating larger amounts of food, and until then a nutritive potion was needed. He tucked into his own plate, filled with black pudding, fried potatoes, and a couple of boiled eggs. Instead of his usual pumpkin juice he had a large cup of black coffee. He would need the extra energy.

Around him the other staff that stayed at the castle over the summer were throwing curious looks over at Potter. The boy's dark hair was as messy as ever and his thick fringe covered up his famous scar. Severus ignored the whispered questions aimed at him and finished his meal. The boy looked up at him sharply when he stood up, arms tensing around his plate ever so slightly. Severus ignored the action and motioned to the nutritive potion. "Drink it." Hesitantly, as if he was afraid that his plate was going to be stolen from under his nose, one arm stretched out and grasped the small glass vial. Green eyes watched him carefully as the potion was downed and squinted in disgust. "They aren't meant to taste well. It's an incentive to not need them again. Finish up your food. We've taken up too much time as it is." Eggs and kippers were quickly shoveled away and the two of them left the whispering staff to their theories on who the boy was.

The potion's master conjured a small cloak and handed it to the boy next to him. "It will be chilly until about noon. Make sure not to lose it." The boy put it on silently and waited for his next command. "Follow me." Severus had taken the path from the castle to the edge of the wards many times, either to go to a Deatheater's meeting or to go to Hogsmeade for refills on potion ingredients during the school year. The path was packed dirt but when the weather turned wet it became a winding ribbon of thick mud. Why it had never been paved with stone was beyond him, but he considered bringing it up at the next staff meeting. He could hear Potter's breaths as he tried to keep up with his swift pace in the thick mud and he slowed down the barest amount. A quick gasp had him turning around to see what had caught the boy's attention.

Ah. Thestrals.

The lizardy equines rarely left the forest, preferring to stay in the paddocks Hagrid set up for them. Every so often, though, they ventured into the open field the surrounded Hogwarts to stretch their wings. Severus himself had more than met the requirement to see the creatures, but wondered at the boy's apparent ability. Perhaps he had seen Lily die? The thought made him a bit sad.

"There is nothing to fear from the thestrals. They are terrifying for one to see the first time, but despite their appearance they are quite harmless unless provoked. They feed mostly on dead flesh, not little boys."

Harry swung his head to look at the dour man. His reassurances were anything but, and the boy sidled closer to the other man. Those weird horses were rather scary looking, but a few of them had canted their head to the side when the wizards had stopped to look at them and Harry couldn't help but think they looked very similar to confused dogs.

A young one ventured out from behind the others and tentatively made its way over. Its head swiveled back and forth like a snake, watching both humans carefully with one eye at all times. Harry pressed against Snape's legs, head pulled back to stay as far away from the creature as he could. The leathery nose snuffled his face gently, warm air that smelled faintly of rotting meat ruffling his hair. Harry hesitantly raised a hand and patted the baby thestral on the nose, surprised at how soft the leathery skin was. One of the older horses snorted and the young one turned to follow its herd out to the field, wings flapping anxiously. Harry watched in awe as the whole group galloped and leapt into the air as one, the sound of powerful wing beats echoing back to the humans.

The boy turned back to the older man. "That was brilliant! I didn't know flying horses were real."

"Not many people can see thestrals. Death has to be witnessed first before they become visible. No doubt your mother's death is your catalyst." A quick glance at the sun had him turning to hurry toward Hogsmeade once more. "Come along, then. The shops will be open soon and if we hurry we can beat the morning rush."

* * *

The crowds weren't as bad as Severus feared. Most of the students had already collected their supplies in the weeks prior and he activity level in the alley was nearly back to normal. Severus' first stop was the bank and he nearly ended up with vomit covered shoes once again after the trolley ride down to the boy's vault. He ignored the surprise on the boy's face at the amount of money was left to him and instructed him to fill a pouch with whatever he thought he needed for the year. At the bewildered looked sent his way, Severus sighed and picked up one of each coin.

"This is a knut." Severus held up the bronze coin. "Twenty-nine of these equals one sickle." This time he held up a silver coin, slightly larger than the first. He set the previous two coins aside and held up a heavy gold coin. "Seventeen sickles make one galleon." He saw that the boy was still confused. "A galleon is equal to 5 pounds, a sickle is about twenty-nine pence, and a knut is one penny. I assume you have some knowledge about muggle money?"

Harry nodded. He learned it in school. He reached for the bag that Snape held and filled it, trying to take a adequate amount of galleons and sickles before filling the rest of the space with knuts to use as change fillers. The goblin (a very strange looking creature, Harry thought) that had brought them down here marked something on piece of parchment attached to the wall next to the vault door and Harry assumed he was recording how much was being withdrawn. How the goblin knew how much was beyond him, but he wasn't willing to get into a conversation with the grumpy looking creature.

The two wizards boarded the trolley once again and they shot off further into the darkness. Just before they rounded a corner that would lead them back to the entrance, something pulled at Harry and made him look to the side. In the dim lighting of the cave, a vault door with the number seven hundred and eleven sat forebodingly, shadows dancing across the rusted metal. Something unfriendly called out to him, but before he could dwell on it the trolley pulled them around the corner and back to the bank. The feeling faded and Harry forgot all about it soon after.

Severus made quick work of Harry's list, swiftly marching into each required shop and ordering the supplies without once looking at the list. Instead of dealing with carrying all of the purchases, he arranged to have them owled to the castle and covered the shipping cost himself without letting the boy know. Merlin forbid the twit think he liked him.

The second to last shop they hit was Madame Malkin's. The Slytherin head stopped just outside the door and turned to his surprisingly silent charge.

"I will leave you here to obtain your robes. I must make a few stops of my own before we go back to the castle. If you are finished before I get back, wait here. Do not make me search for you or you will not like the consequences. Do I make myself clear?" The boy nodded and Severus clucked his tongue. "I expect a verbal answer."

"Yes, sir. I'll stay here."

"Good. Now get inside." Severus stalked off without waiting to see if the boy would follow his command and weaved through the crowds to Knockturn Alley. There were a few dangerous ingredients he needed to collect for his latest experiment.

* * *

Harry stood nervously as the enchanted tape measure flitted around him, taking measurements as a floating quill and piece of parchment recorded everything. Madame Malkin showed up with an armful of black cloth and tapped the parchment with her wand. A scissors appeared out of nowhere and began cutting the cloth, the quill hovering close by as if to make sure it didn't make any mistakes. Needles and thread floated out of the little sewing box at Harry's feet and began to sew the fabric around him.

"Now, dear, hold still while the needles work. They get irritable if you squirm too much. It shouldn't take too long for them to finish."

Harry swallowed and watched the sharp little things carefully, flinching when they got too close to his face. The bell above the shop door rang as a customer opened it and he had to fight the instinct to turn and look. Madame Malkin greeted them cheerfully and a boy Harry's age was brought over to the stand next to him. Harry risked turning his head slightly and saw the other boy was getting the same treatment he was.

The other boy had brown hair and had a kind, round face. Harry smiled when was caught staring. "Hello."

"H-hi! Are you going to Hogwarts, t-too?"

"Yeah. I'm Harry."

"I'm Neville." Needles were now flying around Neville, just as quickly as they had for Harry. "Which house do you think you'll be in?"

House? Harry hadn't heard anything about that. "I'm not sure. What are the houses?"

Neville looked surprised. "You must be a muggleborn. There are four houses at Hogwarts. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. My grandmother wants me to be in Gryffindor, but I think I might be in Hufflepuff. I'm not very brave."

"Brave?"

Neville blushed. "Y-yeah. You get sorted into a house according to the main part of your personality. Brave for Gryffindor, Loyal for Hufflepuff, Ravenclaws are studious, and Slytherins are ambitious. Though, most people say Slytherins are evil."

"Oh. I don't think I want to be in that house, then." The needles around Harry finished and Madame Malkin returned, folding the new robes with an ease that spoke of her years as a tailor.

"Alright, dear, you can head back to the front desk. Neville, your grandmother needed to run to the apothecary for a quick moment. She asked me to tell you to wait for her here."

Harry left the fitting room, Neville following a few minutes later, and watched Madame Malkin wrap his robes in heavy paper. "Are you taking your purchase with you, or do you want me to owl it for you?"

Harry dug into his coin bag. "Owl, please. Can you send it to Hogwarts?"

"I sure can. That will be four galleons for the robes and nine sickles for delivery." Harry handed over the coins and sat next to Neville on the waiting chairs. The boy still held his robes in his lap and Harry sent him a questioning glance.

"Gran doesn't trust the owls the shops use in Diagon Alley. Says they're just as likely to drop your parcel in a lake as deliver it to you." Neville set his package on the seat next to him. "Are you waiting for your parents to pick you up? Gran will be a while in the apothecary, so I'll probably be here for half and hour."

"No, my parents died. I'm waiting for the man I came here with to come back. He told me not to leave this store."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I know what it's like not to have parents around."

"Really?"

Neville nodded. "They're not dead, but they're sick so they stay at St. Mungo's year round."

"That's a hospital?"

"The best one in the Wizarding World." The crowd just outside the window caught the boy's attention and his face brightened as he turned to look. "Hold on, Harry. There's someone you should meet." Neville dashed outside and returned a minute later with a gangly red-haired boy in tow. "Harry, this is Ron. Ron, Harry."

The red head looked a little stunned at being dragged into the robe shop by his usually she friend. "Er, hello there Harry. Going to Hogwarts this year?" Harry nodded. "That's good then. Oh! Neville, I'm actually glad you found me. The quidditch shop finally released the Nimbus two thousand! C'mon, there's one in the display we can look at!"

Neville looked excited, but hesitated. "Gran wanted me to wait for her here while she's at the apothecary."

"You know she's going to talk to that creepy shopkeeper about the different brands of castor oil forever! It'll only take a minute, Neville!"

The brown haired boy visibly caved. "Alright, a minute then. Harry, do you want to come with us?"

Harry was just as reluctant to leave. That Snape guy scared him and he didn't want to make him angry. However, he was dying to see what a Nimbus two thousand even was. Snape didn't seem like he was going to show up in the next few minutes, though, and Harry nodded. "Just for a little, then." The three boys left the shop quickly, excited to see all the chaos the latest broom was causing.

Harry couldn't help but think he had just made a big mistake.

* * *

Well, it's been over three months, but the fourth chapter is finally here. Better late than never, I guess.


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